


Traveling Companions

by cinnamonbaby



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Im drunk writing this, Masturbation, Orgasm denial/delay, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-04 11:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonbaby/pseuds/cinnamonbaby
Summary: Arya is a nuisance to Sandor. She tries to kill him on their travels, so he threatens her. She tried again, so he ties her hands together. Arya is not concerned. She can still cause him trouble when she’s tied up. But perhaps she should be concerned for how the Hound will punish her next...





	1. Trials & Defeats

**Author's Note:**

> So I am drunk right now and have never written before. Sorry hehe. Hope someone out there enjoys this!

The first time the little wolf tried to kill him, Sandor found it amusing. He had woken up for he sound of her feet approaching him carefully, crunching grass softly. Just as the vengeful Stark girl held the rock over her head, he cracked his eye open and snarled at her, “Strike hard, girl. If I live, I swear by your Northern gods I’ll break both of your hands.” He felt content as her face shifted from startled to irritated as she stalked away, embarrassed that she was not the killer she made herself out to be.  
He figured that after that day, the girl wouldn’t dare try anything again. Surely, she had more sense than to disobey the formidable Hound? The man clearly did not yet realize that the youngest Stark girl was known for having more courage than sense.  
The second time Arya Stark tried to kill the Hound, she went about it more carefully. Just because she had more courage than sense did not mean she had no sense at all. She waited days and weeks for the perfect opportunity. On this particular night, the two travelers happened upon a small inn, to both of their immense relief. Arya could not decide if she was more excited to sleep on a featherbed or to exact her revenge on her traveling companion.  
Just as she had hoped, the large man was deep in his cups by the end of the night. She was sat across from him at the wooden table in their small room, trying to control her features from conveying her giddiness at what was to come. Alas, she couldn’t stop a girlish giggle from escaping when she pictured the look on the Hound’s face when he realized she had bested her. His eyes flicked to her immediately at the unfamiliar sound, narrowing in suspicion.  
“What is it then, girl? Thinking of some greenboy cunt from Winterfell?” He had drank plenty of wine, and was not in the mood for her company. Even more so than usual. Arya took in his drunken state and simply grinned in response. She could tell that tonight was the night.  
Sure enough, when he finally lumbered off to bed, he was snoring within minutes. It took all of her patience to stay curled on the floor in front of the hearth. But she knew it was important that the man was truly asleep, especially given what happened the last time. Arya may not have much respect for the Hound, but she doesn’t doubt he’ll make good in his promise to break her hands. An hour goes by. Then two. She decides that he is good and asleep, and slowly stands. Bending down, she removes the dagger she had hidden in her boot. She holds her breath as she creeps towards the sleeping man. Once she is standing at the edge of the bed, she pauses. The Hound was a cruel, ugly man. However, she could not stop herself from appreciating the scars that marred his face. Arya has always been drawn to scars because they proved someone was hard, that they had seen battle, that they had survived. Carefully, she brings the bald to rest against the base of his throat.  
Sandor’s eyes snap open at the feeling of steel against his throat. And there was the wolf girl, eyes wide as an owl, mouth set in a determined line, holding a blade to his throat. When she saw he was awake, she froze. He took the opportunity to grab her hand away from his throat, using the momentum to swing her small frame up and over him on the bed and roll on top of her in one motion. He pinned her thighs with his knees and used both hands to hold her wrists above her head, squeezing her left hand hard until she could no longer maintain her grip on the blade. She struggled beneath him, thrashing about like a real wolf, screeching at him, “Let me go, let me go, I will kill you!” Her teeth were bared and a light growl was coming from deep within her as the Hound shifted her skinny wrists to one of his huge hands, and with his other hand now free, he grabbed hold of the dagger she had tried to kill him with moments ago.  
“I thought I told you what would happen if you tried that again,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He brought the blade to her ribs, now exposed from her shirt riding up. The feeling caused her eyebrows to draw together, a puff of breath leaving her lips in shock. He trailed the tip of the blade down to her hip bone, then back to her ribcage, drawing gooseflesh over her abdomen. Her breathing shallowed, the fight worn out of her. Something seemed to have shifted in the situation, but she couldn’t place it. All the anger she felt had practically dissipated, and now she felt... different. His eyes bore down into hers as he teased her with the dagger.  
“Now, this is what is going to happen. I’m getting up, and you’re staying put. Do you know what will happen if you disobey me?” As he said this last line, he dug the tip of the dagger into her flesh, piercing the skin below her ribcage and drawing a droplet of crimson blood. The pain suddenly cleared the girl’s foggy mind, and she nodded her understanding. Slowly, the Hound shifted off of her and stood on the side of the bed, reaching into his bag. Keeping his eyes on the girl, he pulled thick ropes out, winding them around his massive hand.  
“Stand up now, girl, face the bed, hands behind your back,” he said quietly. Arya did as she was told, humiliated again that her plan had not been successful. The Hound took her wrists in his grip, roughly binding them together with the rope.  
For weeks, Arya has been obedient. Her hands have remained tied, and her wrists were rubbed raw by the rope. The Hound was pleased that at last, he had tamed the wild girl. But he was foolish to believe that she would not still cause him trouble.


	2. The Ties that Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be very surprised if anyone actually read the first chapter and conirinued. In a good way! If you’re reading this I love you

It was a fairly basic night for the unlikely traveling companions. Arya was laying on her side on her bedroll, staring into the flames. Sandor was on the other side of their fire, as far away from the flames as possible to still feel their warmth. Unbeknownst to Arya, the Hound was currently stroking his cock in search of release. His back was to the girl, and it was tensed as he bit down on his lip to keep from grunting. He was nearing his release, he could feel it coming, when he heard the girl speak the names of men she planned to kill. 

“Joffrey. Cersei. Walker Frey. Meryn Trant. Tywin Lannister. The Red Woman.” She spoke the names quietly but clearly. His ministrations faltered, as hearing the list had piqued his curiosity and diverted his attention. “Beric Dondarrion. Thoros of Myr. Ilyn Payne. The Mountain.” Hearing that last name certainly ruined the mood for Sandor. He lost concentration, and lost that feeling he had been chasing with his hand, and it was all the little brat’s fault. “The Hound.” She spoke this final name, and Sandor instantly felt flames erupt inside of him. He was seething. Would this little wolf bitch stop at nothing to see his head on a pyke? Even after the threats and punishments he has already given her? Not only was he mad about that, but his private time had been interrupted. 

“You still hell-bent on killing me, then?” He questioned her. She was shocked at the sound of his voice, thinking him to be asleep all this time. “I thought you were asleep,” was all she managed to voice. At this, he rolled over to look at her. “I was awake, girl. You interrupted me. Little wolf bitch,” he muttered, not bothering to conceal his irritation. 

“What did I interrupt, you cowering from the fire?” She felt emboldened to ask. Sandor raged internally at her words. Abruptly, he stood and walked around the fire, planting a foot on each side of her knees. Arya looked up at him, ready to defend herself if she needed to.  
It seemed that the Hound has determined how to discipline Arya this time. Without a word, he reached into his breeches and pulled his half-hard cock out. He began to stroke it lazily until it was fully erect again, all the while Arya gazed up at it, speechless. Her lips were parted as she watched his hand glide back and forth over his length.  
“This is what you interrupted. Now I need to start over again. If you won’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll fill it for you,” he warned in a low voice, hand now pumping his member much quicker than before. The thought of his cock in her pretty, innocent mouth nearly made him climax. She could barely breathe let alone talk. Her eyes were glued to the display above her. She wanted so badly to look away, to feel anger or disgust, but she felt only heat soreading through her. Sandor could hear her panting softly, and it pushed him over the edge. He sprayed his seed over her pale face. Without meaning to, she caught some of him in her mouth, and her eyes closed, savoring the taste. She licked it from her lips slowly and without opening her eyes, for she could not bare to look at him in this moment. 

“I hope you will be a better girl for me now, little wolf,” he mumbled gently, stepping back to his bedroll and lying down. Soon enough he was snoring, and Arya allowed herself to groan in frustration when her tied hands could not wipe the cum from her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehe if anyone wants more lemme know


	3. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s more!

Weeks had past since the Hound had sprayed his seed on Arys’s face. Still, she could not stop thinking of it. His cock looked so heavy above her, and she wondered it would feel like in her tiny hand. In fact, she wondered what it would feel like elsewhere. During the days, she kept quiet, wanting to avoid any further punishments. It was at night that she allowed her mind to wander. On this night, she had fallen asleep thinking of what the Hound’s cock would feel like in her mouth. The Hound lay across the fire from her in a light slumber. In her sleep, Arya moaned continuously, dreaming of his thick cock and powerful hands. 

Sandor awoke to soft cries coming from across the fire. He had half a mind to smack her for waking him up at this hour! He lumbered over to her, ready to punish her for disturbing his sleep. What he saw surprised him. Her cheeks were flushed a dark red, her forehead creased, and her hips were wriggling ever so slightly. She moaned once again, and he realized the wolf was in heat. The sights and sounds coming from her cause his manhood to stiffen. He lowered to his knees, straddling her thighs, and put a hand beneath her head. 

“Girl,” he growled, tugging her hair. She moaned again, but did not open her eyes. “Girl!” He shouted at her, and she opened her grey eyes in confusion. He watched her as she assessed the situation. “Is the little lady having some nice dreams?” he prompted, lifting her head so she was sitting up beneath him. Her face grew desde as she began to stutter out an explanation. “Just a dream of Winterfell, it happens often,” she stated, trying and failing to keep her voice level. 

“Winterfell, aye? Must be some Northern cunt you’re thinking of. Handsome lad, in your dream he fills you with his seed?” He teased her harshly. Before she had a chance to reply, he carried on. “You woke me up, girl. Ruined a good night’s rest.” He released his cock from his breeches. Once again, she was left speechless as he jerked himself in front of her. This time, her position allowed her a closer view. Her face was now level with his throbbing member, and only inches away. Sandor heard the girls labored breathing, and moved his hips forward until his cock made contact with her soft cheek. She moaned at the feeling, instinctively turning her head towards it. “Please,” she breathed out, “please untie my hands.” It was the first time she had asked him since he had tied her hands so many moons ago. 

He ignored her plea, rubbing the slick tip of his cock along her plump bottom lip. Her mouth parted for him, and her tongue darted out to meet his head, lapping at him greedily. He could see her rubbing her thighs together, attempting to get some friction. Chuckling, he pulled his cock out of reach from her mouth, and replaced it with his thumb when she whined in protest. She swirled her tongue around his thumb enthusiastically, breathing heavily through her nose with her eyes squeezed shut tightly. He continued to pump himself as he watched her rubbing her thighs together vigorously, seeking stimulation. He grinned as a dark thought crossed his mind. Shifting his legs, he pushed her legs apart, preventing her from achieving the friction she was so desperate for. Instantly, she whipped her head back, his thumb popping out of her mouth, and nearly shouted, “My hands, please, I need them! Please untie me, please..” She begged with him as her hips jerked violently. “Hush,” he stated firmly, pushing his cock between her lips once again to both silence her and help himself. Arya took to her task seriously, bobbing her head on his thick cock in an attempt to fit as much of him in her as possible. “Open your eyes, girl. Look at me. Look at me!” he roared, causing her to eyes to snap open. She met his gaze with intensity, continuing to suck him off and feeling herself grow wetter by the second. She felt her cunt clench around nothing and let out a strangled cry around his cock. Tears filled her eyes from her frustration, and the Hound finally decided he had tortured her enough. He repositioned so he was now straddling her thigh with his knee pressing into her core. The tears flowed from Arya’s eyes, relief spelled out all over her flushed face. Eagerly, she wrapped her legs around his massive thigh and began to grind herself on him. He moved a hand to the back of her head to remind her of her task, guiding her head back and forth on him. Once she resumed her rhythm, his hand moved around to caress her jaw, thumb brushing away her tears which were now beginning to ebb. She kept her eyes locked on his while she received this show of affection. She didn’t understand this man at all, she had decided. All of her thoughts evaporated when he suddenly pushed her onto her back. He reinserted his cock into her impatient mouth and pushed his knee to her once again. She moaned loudly when he pushed his knee to her, moving back and forth and in circles, rather than just allowing her to grind on him. Meanwhile, he had taken hold of her head again and was pushing her onto his cock harder and faster, nearly choking her with it. The loss of control only excited her further, causing her to spasm on his knee, jerking involuntarily up on him. He grunted loudly, thrusting into her soft mouth violently, until he finally exploded, filling her mouth with his hot seed. She began to tear up again as she swallowed him, moving herself on his leg as hard and quickly as she can, until he had decided she had sucked up every last drop of him and pulled away from her. He forced her thighs open, removing himself from her completely and causing her to scream at the loss. “No, no, no, not yet, please come back, please,” she sobbed, rubbing her thighs against each other once again. “Untie my hands, please unite them, I need to touch myself, please! I’m so close, please unite me,” she begged him, feeling and if she were about to go completely mad if he did not do as she asked. The Hound simply enjoyed the state he left her in. He reveled in the feeling of control he finally gained over her. “Don’t wake me again, little wolf,” he warned in a gruff voice. With this, he strolled back to his bedroll, turning his back on her. All night, he enjoyed the sound of her sobbing and whining, and even enjoyed the curses she threw at him. He woke up the next morning grinning to himself.


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya runs awaaaayyyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to prettyprairie, wouldn’t have written this if i didn’t see your comment:) Also, I think I am going to sprinkle a little bit of plot into this porn, hope no one minds!

Sandor, as usual, was in a shit mood. 

Sure, he felt pretty good about the state he left his little wolf in a few nights back. He could barely wipe the smirk off his face each time he thought back to how she squirmed for him, how desperate he made her, this wild girl who wanted him dead. 

But despite the name given to him, he was not a dog, he was a man. And when she hadn’t been trying to kill him, or bitching, or practicing her stupid fucking water dancing, he had grown to enjoy her company. That’s why he was so enraged to find her attempting to kill him, not once, but twice. After all, he was the one watching over her, bringing her to whatever was left of her family. Ungrateful bitch. 

Sandor was pulled from his musings by a soft rustling sound in the bushes to his left. “Girl,” he called, wasting no time in striding over to where he heard the sound. “If you run from me again, I will catch you, and you’ll be sorry. Come to me now,” he demanded. 

He was surprised that his threat worked on her. He really had tamed her after all, he supposed. 

She stepped out from where she was hiding, eyes cast down, and tried to walk past him, but his hand shot out to grab her arm and stop her. Still, she kept her eyes down, even as he tightened his grip on her arm. “Look at me,” he urged, voice softer than she was used to. Out of curiosity, she met his eyes. “I am trying to help you. I am bringing you to your family, keeping you safe. If you run from me, you won’t find them.”

“I hate you,” she said quietly and without hesitation. He stared at her, willing her to go on. “Why did you run from me, girl?”

“I hate you,” she repeated, this time more harshly. She took a breath, hesitated, “I’m not your whore.” At this, Sandor barked out a harsh laugh, humiliating the girl further. “Of course you’re not, little wolf. Whores are women with big tits that know how to work a cock. You’re just a pup.” 

Arya was offended, and completely forgot the point she was trying to make, too focused on the insult she felt to choose her words carefully. “I know how to work a cock. You’re the one who keeps my hands tied. You’re the one who works me up just to abandon me. You’re the one who doesn’t know what he’s doing,” she ranted, pulling away from him and stomping off. 

Sandor felt a bit guilty for how he had treated the girl. She may be a brat at times, but he respected her fire, her courage, her fight. Perhaps he should apologize to Arya for humiliating her. Perhaps he should punish her for running off. 

Maybe he should untie her hands, and see what she can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments dearly appreciated! Lmk what y’all want from meeee and I’ll make it happen!


	5. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time, Sandor feels guilty. Arya feels... conflicted.

Arya was feeling conflicted. 

This stupid ugly brute. She wanted to so badly to spill his blood at first, for Mycah, for her father, for herself. Then, things changed. 

He had put her in her place. She was determined to not let any of his punishments restrain her. She was fine to survive with her hands bound behind her back. She wanted him to think that he had solved his problem, that she would be any less deadly without her hands, and then she could catch him off guard and prove him wrong. But she wasn’t anticipating his other... punishments. Watching him stroke his cock above her had awoken something in her. She was no child, now of ten and seven years, but she had never witnessed a man pleasuring himself before. 

Then when she had felt that pressure building in herself... It made her feel primal, like a true wolf. When he left her, hands bound, thrashing and crying, she had never felt more humiliated. Worse than the humiliation she felt was the way she had began to feel about the man himself. Pressed against him on his horse, watching him sleep, dreaming of him, she could hardly bare it. This attraction she felt would surely drive her mad. Which is why she ran away from him. 

She felt so relieved to be rid of him, but when he found her, she felt confused. Part of her was excited to see him, excite he had come after her, even excited to see if he would “punish” her again. But she was angry as well. Mostly at herself for her traitorous thoughts and feelings for this man. The more she thought on it, the angrier she grew, for he had used her body for himself and caused her such humiliation. She told him she was not his whore, and she tried to keep from showing how flustered she was, but as she ranted on, she feared she had shown her true desires. 

She thought back to the interaction as she lie awake, staring into the fire. Perhaps she had created more problems for herself. If he were to untie her hands now, she would have to prove her words, and they had truly only been words. She had no experience in the ways of pleasuring a man. She just spoke out of spite, saying anything to feel more in control. It made her nervous to think that she may have given the Hound ideas. Now, if he were to untie her hands and demand she prove herself, she would be even more humiliated, and surely he would be enraged by her lies. Especially after she provoked him. She couldn’t help herself, and she figured if she tainted him about not being able to pleasure a woman, he would rise to her challenge, and she would win at last. 

Arya was not the only one lying awake in thought. Sandro was also replaying the conversation in his mind. The two had not spoken since Arya’s final insult to him. He did feel guilty for the harsh embarrassment he caused the girl. He hadn’t meant to wound her pride as much as he did, he only acted impulsively from his raging temper. But he hasn’t forgotten what she implied earlier. 

He figures she only taunted him about pleasuring women so that he would finally grant her what she had wanted since he first came undone in front of her. Still, the comment may work in her favor yet. He couldn’t ignore the claims she made about herself, either. He was curious to see if she really did know what she was doing, and he wanted to make some sort of amends to her, so that their travels would become less hostile. He just wanted a fucking break from it. It was exhausting him more than necessary. If his relationship with the young wolf would become a bit more trusting, if that was possible for them, then it would work in both their favors. He thinks he may be ready to find out what she can do with her hands untied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want it to happen, let me know and I’ll make it happen:) Ima get to the good stuff next chapter i promise

**Author's Note:**

> More to come my loves


End file.
